Michael Korb explores the flirty, funny and sometimes frightening world of dating in Southwest Florida

What He Really Meant in That Text

Michael Korb

We feel a little bit bad talking about our friend Riley behind her back but she ends up being such a wonderful teaching tool that we can’t help ourselves. As you may recall, she recently broke up with her boyfriend of eight(ish) months and was suddenly back in our lives texting like a ninth-grader with no parental supervision.

But after two weeks of non-stop frowny faces and what we would deem excuses on behalf of the ex, Riley went into radio silence. More than a week has passed with nary a “L” or some other elaborate emoticon signally sadness. This, as any casual observer of human textuality would tell you, means she is back in contact with the ex. As I mentioned to one of her friends while sipping prosecco at Osetra, we need to cut the kite string and let her blow away for a while. That way we can be refreshed for when she crashes back into our yard later on.

In the meantime, I’m sending her a link to HeTexted.com—a website that deciphers texts from men for the women who don’t understand them. All you have to do is upload a screen grab of the text you are unclear about, post it to the site, then wait for other users to chime in with what they think he means.

Here’s a favorite of ours from someone names Tyler:

Nameless Girl: Hey! How are you?

Tyler: Hey, sorry I snuck out last night.

Nameless Girl: That’s cool! What are you doing later?

Tyler: Kinda crazy with work but will let you know.

Site users weighed in with 13 people thinking he is into her, 63 believing the verdict is still out, and a whopping 2146 rightly deciding, “He’s not into you.”

Ahh, technology.

The Chronicles of Miss X: (She’s been busy.)

So now we have a choice. The retired life-saver who now pushes people around for tips at the airport, the ex-corporate guy-turned-tiki bar musician, the needy number cruncher who needs a stool to look my 5-foot four-inch self in the eyes, the country boy who calls everyone ‘darlin’’ and smokes a little too much, the quirky clinician who kissed me goodbye the way my grandmother used to, and the nice guy who just didn’t fit. (Is she saying that the rest of those guys fit?)